


Ectopic

by Danao



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Jedi Apprentice Series - Jude Watson & Dave Wolverton
Genre: Gen, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-26
Updated: 2017-04-26
Packaged: 2018-10-24 08:04:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10737555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Danao/pseuds/Danao
Summary: Anakin travels back in time and loses his memories.





	Ectopic

The man emerged from the desert, naked and coltish as any newborn. The slavers descended upon him mercilessly. But all who saw him talked about the light of the sky in his eyes, and whispered among themselves, and wondered.

The following day, the slavers were dead and the man was gone.

 

 

He opened his eyes expecting to feel coarse sand surrounding him. Instead there were clean sheets and a soft pillow underneath his head. He was confused, then alarmed, before he remembered –

His name was Obi-Wan Kenobi. He was 12 years old. He was an Initiate of the Temple. In a few months, he would be too old to train, and he would be sent away.

When he gazed at his hands, he was astonished to find them bloodless.

 

 

“Troubled, you look, young Kenobi,” Master Yoda said, coming upon Obi-Wan in one of the rock gardens.

Here, then, was an opening: _Yes. I’ve been having odd dreams lately._

But the weight of the man’s eyes were heavy even though he wasn’t really there. Bright blue eyes. That was important, somehow. _He_ was important.

“Will I ever find a Master to train me?” slipped out of Obi-Wan’s mouth, and Yoda’s wrinkled face softened in pity. He felt a thrill pass through him, quickly stifled, at the successful if unplanned misdirection.

“Always in motion, the future is,” Yoda told him, gently, and sat beside him.

 

 

“You’re the one who’s always in my head.”

Obi-Wan’s head whipped upwards, towards the towering shadow of a man. His eyes were blue. Obi-Wan breathed, calming, then calm. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be, it just – “

“Happened,” the man finished. “I know.

Obi-Wan held his gaze, waiting.

“My name is Anakin,” the man said after an extended moment of silence. “And you’re Obi-Wan.”

“Yes.”

The man looked frustrated and befuddled, but not upset. “I don’t know how I know you, or how I know you’re real but this is a dream, or how I can tell you’re an Initiate.”

“I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan said, looking away, “I don’t know either.”

Anakin huffed. “Not your fault.”

When Obi-Wan woke up, the memory of the dream was as clear as any waking moment.

 

 

“Don’t look up,” Garen muttered. “Here’s Chun.”

Obi-Wan automatically ducked his head at the mention of his fellow Initiate. Bruck Chun was a miserable bully, but after the accident last year he was out for Obi-Wan’s blood. His friends tried to reassure him that Bruck’s hostility would soon pass, but Obi-Wan was quickly losing hope. Bruck, it seemed, held long grudges.

Garen’s warning was for naught. Bruck had already sighted Obi-Wan and was quickly making his way towards their table.

“Oh no,” Bant said.

Obi-Wan sighed and braced himself. He thought of Anakin, and that steadied him.

 

 

“Where are we?”

Anakin glanced down at him from the corner of his eyes. “Tatooine.”

Obi-Wan frowned, trying to place the name. “One of the Outer Rim worlds?”

“Yes.” Anakin seemed to hesitate. “This is where I was born, I suppose.”

“You suppose?” Obi-Wan echoed, eyebrows rising. He hadn’t thought to ask about Anakin’s past, but now that the subject was brought up he was alit with curiosity.

“My first memory is waking up just as a slave chip was to be implanted on me,” Anakin said.

That made Obi-Wan pause. “Did you, uh, did you escape?”

“I did.”

Obi-Wan bit back the rest of the questions that he wanted to ask. How did you escape? Are you okay now? Are you safe now?

Anakin laid a hand on his head. “Don’t think too hard about it, Obi-Wan.”

 

 

“This is favouritism, Master Yoda.”

The Grandmaster huffed. He had heard those words before, in Mace’s blunt tone, and was now hearing it in Qui-Gon’s. “Favoritism, it is, to be concerned for an Initiate under my care?”

Qui-Gon looked away. “This level of _concern_ is unprecedented. It is only natural for me to wonder.”

Yoda frowned at him, recognizing a sheathed barb when he heard one. “Gifted, Obi-Wan Kenobi is. Great potential he has, to become one of the best of the Order.”

“Gifted. Great potential,” Qui-Gon repeated. “I have heard those words before, used to describe another youngling.”

Yoda shook his head at the bitterness evident in Qui-Gon’s words. It was not the Jedi way to harbor old hurts, and yet, and yet. “Different, Obi-Wan Kenobi is, from Xanatos.”

“I know they’re different people,” Qui-Gon replied, now being deliberately literal.

Yoda sighed.

 

 

Her name was Shmi, and Anakin knew her.

She was a slave, like he almost was. He’d heard her desperate entreaties to her slavers like she was shouting in his ear despite the fact she’d never opened her mouth as she was led across the podium. She met his eyes then, and rage coursed through him –

When he regained his senses, there was carnage all around him.

He fled.

 

 

“Stay away!”

Obi-Wan stopped. “Anakin?”

The young man’s eyes were rimmed with red. His hands were shaking. “I might hurt you.”

“Anakin, what are you – “

“I said STAY AWAY!”

Obi-Wan woke up gasping for breath.

 

 

Somehow, losing Anakin’s friendship was still worse than witnessing his lifelong dreams crushed beneath Master Jinn’s booted feet.

_This is why you can’t be a Jedi, Kenobi_ , he thought to himself, on the way to Bandomeer. _You don’t even know if he’s real and you’re already so attached –_

He rubbed his face and resolved to forget _everything_. Then the pirates attacked, and he did forget, for a while. After it was all over, he did not bother to ask Master Jinn if he’d changed his mind. He already knew the answer.

Several systems away, Anakin had boarded the nearest transport possible. The Force was urging him, that painfully familiar warning ringing in his ears. _Obi-Wan is in danger_. _Hurry, hurry, Anakin Skywalker._

 

 

Shmi was a free woman now, but that wasn’t enough. Not yet. The bloodbath that happened, the massacre of slavers, it opened her eyes to the reality of this pitiless galaxy. It wasn’t enough to beg, or hope, or cry, or wait – she would have to wrangle fate in her own hands, and just _take_ , like everybody else did.

_Agency_ , she thought, heart pounding. _Freedom, at all cost._

 

 

 “Obi-Wan!”

That voice . . . Obi-Wan froze, feeling as if all his internal organs had seized up. But that did not matter – warm arms were pulling him closer, barricading him in safety and affection.

“There you are,” Anakin said, smiling gently.

“Anakin,” was all Obi-Wan could say, a choked whisper. Tears brimmed and clung to his eyelashes, so he hid his face in Anakin’s shoulder. For a very long time he’d felt unsettled in his own skin, as if he was supposed to be doing something somewhere else. He’d took that to mean that he was meant to be a Jedi Knight. Here, though, in Anakin’s embrace, everything slotted into place. _This_ was where he’d always been meant to be. He’d been a fool to think otherwise.

Anakin ran a soothing hand through Obi-Wan’s hair. “Time to deal with that Xanatos guy, yeah?”

**Author's Note:**

> Might make a longer version later on. Or a sequel. Thanks for reading!


End file.
